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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23086729">Hiding From the World Outside</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFandomLesbian/pseuds/TheFandomLesbian'>TheFandomLesbian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Spencer's Raulson One-Shots [42]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, foxxay - Freeform, pre-Seven Wonders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:39:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,230</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23086729</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFandomLesbian/pseuds/TheFandomLesbian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The girls all head to Baton Rouge when Luke is transferred to another hospital, leaving Misty and Cordelia at home alone. Misty makes it her mission to draw the timid, newly blind Cordelia out of her shell.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Misty Day/Cordelia Foxx | Cordelia Goode</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Spencer's Raulson One-Shots [42]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1214643</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hiding From the World Outside</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For a dialogue prompt: "Stop pretending you're okay, because I know you're not."</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Misty sat across the couch from Cordelia in the silence of Miss Robicheaux’s. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I shouldn’t be staying here. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She ground her teeth. The place reeked—not physically, but emotionally. Souls were crying out. This was a place where tormented souls had never gained their rest. She wrung her hands. She had come here because she trusted Myrtle and because she had nowhere else to go, so when her revived friend told her she knew a place that was safe, she followed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I wouldn’t have if she had told me where it was. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Misty didn’t know where else she </span>
  <em>
    <span>would have </span>
  </em>
  <span>gone. Everyone she had ever known thought she was dead—she preferred it that way. If she was dead, she was safe… or so she had thought, anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cordelia and the other witches insisted she was safe from the witch hunters. But the longer she was here, the more she wondered if this whole place was just a more elaborate way to kill witches. After all, no one knew she was alive except for Zoe—how else would anyone have learned about her? Her lips twisted downward as she thought, tapping her toes on the wooden floor. It was all a puzzle, and Misty had never been one for solving puzzles, not the cardboard kind. She preferred her puzzles in real life before her, like finding the most effective way to climb a tree or the driest way to cross a brook. Thinking puzzles weren’t for her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The telephone rang. Misty glanced sideways at Cordelia, who held a book in her lap, open to a page, head bent down as if she could read the ink, but she kept trailing her fingers back and forth over the sheet of paper unevenly. She didn’t move at the sound of the telephone. Her dim fingers kept trailing over the book. The light refracted off of the dark lenses of her sunglasses. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Is she gonna answer the telephone? </span>
  </em>
  <span>It rang again, and Cordelia didn’t move. Misty shrugged it off and popped off of the couch. She didn’t have anything better to do but to answer the phone. Then, she would interact with Cordelia, try to make her look a little less morose. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’ve got a bad aura… She can probably tell I hate it here.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trotting off into the other room, Misty surveyed, trying to follow the sound of the ringing, before she finally spotted a landline phone two rooms away, well out of Cordelia’s earshot. “Hullo, Miss Robicheaux’s.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Misty, it’s Zoe.” Misty perked up at the sound of Zoe’s familiar voice. “Listen, um, Luke is being lifted to another hospital, and Nan doesn’t want to leave him, so we decided to humor her. Madison’s going to drive us all down to Baton Rouge. We’ve got Kyle, so you don’t have to worry about him—and I think Fiona is going to be out with her date. It’ll just be you and Cordelia for awhile… Unless you want to come?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoe’s offering was reluctant, and Misty was equally reluctant to accept. “Nah, I think I got plenty of things I like better than being stuck in a vehicle with Kyle for hours on end.” Cordelia was odd, morose, sombre, but at least she wasn’t a hurricane in skin. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I can cheer her up. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“So me and Miss Cordelia—er, what’s her deal? She’s awful quiet.” Misty lowered her voice, just in case Cordelia </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> hear her. “She’s been holding this book staring at one page for close to an hour.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh…” Zoe paused, and Misty could hear the sound of her audibly licking her lips. “She, um, I think she’s like… grieving. Because, I mean, just a few weeks ago, she was blinded—” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She was </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Misty interrupted. She lowered her voice into a hushed whisper again. “I thought she was born that way!” she hissed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? Oh, no, that just happened recently. Halloween night, actually.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Well, no wonder she’s morose. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Somebody bumped into her in a bar bathroom and hurled acid in her face. They thought it was a case of mistaken identity, but Fiona said it was Myrtle, and that was why they burned her… Didn’t she tell you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Misty blinked. “I never ask anybody how or why they died. That’d be awful rude.” She had first hand experience with dying, and when she woke up, the last thing she had wanted was for somebody to stick their face in hers demanding what had happened and how and why. She wanted to be alone, safe under the dirt, forever. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um… If you say so.” Zoe cleared her throat. “Anyway, then, when she woke up, she had the Sight. You know, how she touches people and can see things. She couldn’t do that before, you know, everything happened. But her husband came in—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She was </span>
  <em>
    <span>married?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you let me finish?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure, sorry—go ahead.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When he touched her, she saw him cheating on her. I guess more than once. So now she’s trying to divorce him and all that jazz. But I don’t know where she is with it or anything. I’ve been kinda busy with everything… And I guess she probably has been, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Misty waited until she heard a definite pause in Zoe’s speech this time before she interjected. “Does she have </span>
  <em>
    <span>anybody</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” she asked. “This all has been dumped onto her plate.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Where’s her support system?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Misty knew better than to ask… She, too, had never had a steady support system. Her family wasn’t capable of providing such a thing, and the kids in school had always feared her. As an adult, she understood why. “Who’s helping her out?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoe’s uncertainty was palpable. “Well… She and Fiona aren’t on very good terms, but, um, I think Fiona helped her kick Hank out? Fiona always hated Hank, so she’s been gloating it over Cordelia a whole bunch, but at least Hank’s gone. And I think Cordelia’s taking it pretty hard that Queenie left, too, actually… I don’t know. She likes Myrtle, but I haven’t seen her in a couple of days. Did she tell you where she was going before she left? It’s unlike her to just disappear, especially after what happened with Cordelia.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Misty sighed. “No, I haven’t seen her.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe she got out of this crazy town while she still had the chance. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Misty doubted that Myrtle would abandon Cordelia that way—after all, she had fought so hard to get back here in the first place. But after experiencing this place for a little while, absolutely nothing would surprise Misty. She licked her lips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anyway, we gotta go. Are you okay? I don’t want anybody to be afraid of the witch hunters.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, we’ll be fine. Don’t worry about us. Thanks, Zoe.” Placing the phone back on the hook, Misty turned on her heel and retraced her footsteps back to Cordelia’s side in the living room. She hadn’t moved, still staring down at the book before her. “Hey, Miss Cordelia?” Cordelia lifted her head, closing the book with a snap on her own fingers and then jerking them free from the page. Her mouth formed a small O of surprise, as if she had lost track of time. “That was Zoe on the phone. Everybody’s going to Baton Rouge for awhile with Nan’s boyfriend. I guess Fiona and Myrtle are both MIA, so it’s just gonna be us for awhile unless they turn up.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tilting her head up, Cordelia nodded. “Right… Okay. Thanks, Misty.” She kept trailing her fingers over the cover of her old tome, falling back into her reverent, sad silence. She was so still, so strange, and Misty couldn’t leave her like that, looking all pathetic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So she cocked her head. “Why don’t we do something?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Do what? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Misty couldn’t appear in public as long as she was legally missing presumed dead; if somebody recognized her, she could be in deep shit. The last thing she needed was for someone from her old life to catch wind of where she was now and follow her—or the witch hunter who had chased her here, to this strange safety. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eh, not what I’d consider safe. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She felt she was more likely to die from another witch here than any of the other threats on the outside world… But she had run out of options, at least for the time being. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe me and Cordelia could leave together. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She entertained the notion. Clearly, Cordelia was miserable here. She needed to get far, far away from Fiona and learn to love herself again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But those were all long-distant future goals. First, she needed something for them to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>right now,</span>
  </em>
  <span> because Cordelia’s sunglasses reflected her face back at her as she asked, “I don’t know… I don’t think I feel up to doing anything in public. I’d just make a fool of myself.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Misty sat down beside her, instead of on the opposite end of the couch, and blinked down at the weathered book in her hand. “Well, I can’t really do public, either. If somebody recognized me, we’d be toast—literally, literally toast.” Cordelia cracked a tiny smile. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, c’mon, that’s some of my best humor. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“We don’t have to do anything huge. I can drive you grocery shopping, since the cabinet’s a little empty. Or we could get coffee.” Cordelia hung her head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m losing her. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She looked so disappointed, so ashamed. Misty reached out and touched the back of her hand. “Or we could go out to the greenhouse.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cordelia’s hand was warm under her touch. Her fingers had a slight tremble, and Misty wondered what she Saw. But she didn’t pull away. Instead, she slowly turned her hand palm-up, so they were palm-to-palm, fingers touching but not yet entwining. “Misty, I—I appreciate you want to entertain me, but I, um, I don’t think I’m cut out for doing much, right now.” She lowered her head, nose pointed down to the cover of her book. “I’m not exactly in a position to have much fun.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Misty paused. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, so the ‘let’s have fun’ approach isn’t working.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Could she be forward? She didn’t want to scare Cordelia off. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She’s so pretty.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sitting in the natural light of the living room, the sun streaming through the window, Cordelia’s hair caught in a golden light. “What’s wrong?” she asked hesitantly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cordelia shook her head. Her tangled hair drifted down her face and shook, and Misty wondered if she had been able to brush it since losing her sight. She reached out and tucked a lock behind her ear. Cordelia gave a minute flinch as Misty’s fingers brushed so near to the rim of her sunglasses, but she didn’t pull away. “Nothing,” she said. Her fingers ran up and down the pages of the book. “I’m fine. I’m just tired.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop pretending you’re okay. I know you’re not. You’ve been holding this book for over an hour,” Misty pressed gently. Cordelia’s shoulders hunched over. Misty took her hand away from Cordelia and reached for the book, gingerly sliding it out of Cordelia’s lap. She squinted down at the title. It was an aged book, but the title was still legible. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Herbology: Magique of Botanical Properties, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Misty read on the cover. Cordelia fell silent. Misty carefully opened the cover. “What are you doing with this?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “It makes me feel better.” Misty studied her face. “I like the way it smells… the way it feels.” The book was well-worn. Misty could tell which pages had seen the most light. “It was my favorite. I used it all the time, before…” She sighed despondently. “Now I can barely climb the stairs.” Bitterness laced her voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Misty pursed her lips. “Well, you can still use it now. I may not be good for much, but I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span> read, you know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t want to be a bother.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not a bother. I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>offering.</span>
  </em>
  <span> We’ve got days of nothing but getting to hang out together. I want to be your friend. And I bet there’s a ton you can teach me.” Misty slid the book back over to Cordelia and grabbed her hand again, this time clasping them together. “What do you say?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cordelia’s mouth hung slightly open, a small O, and she didn’t face Misty anymore; her face angled straight at the wall, her breathing heavy and posture rigid. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She’s Seeing something.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Misty’s brow quirked, and she wanted to call Cordelia’s name, but she didn’t dare interrupt whatever was happening in Cordelia’s mind. Then, she snapped out of it, her jaw closing with a firm </span>
  <em>
    <span>click.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Her cheeks stained bright red, and she began to giggle. “Miss Cordelia?” Misty asked, uncertainly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Covering her mouth with her hand, Cordelia’s shoulders quivered with her slight laughter. “Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry—yes, I’ll go with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Misty grinned. “Can I ask what you Saw?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you’ll find out soon enough.” Misty tilted her head, watching as Cordelia stood and the sun stained her hair all honey and beautiful. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. I’d really like to kiss her. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The thought struck her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stood, offering her arm to Cordelia. “Yeah, you bet I will.” Another giggle confirmed her suspicions. Leading the way to the greenhouse with Cordelia’s book under arm, Misty had never felt lighter. </span>
</p>
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